


Three's a Crowd

by Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me



Series: Destiel/ Cockles Shorts [20]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cockles, Cocky Misha, Flirting, Groping, Hand Jobs, Humor, M/M, Nipple Licking, Oral Sex, Shy Jensen Ackles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 10:16:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5413043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me/pseuds/Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misha and Jensen can get a little carried away at times ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three's a Crowd

                     “Give it back!”

                     Misha spins around, still grinning at Jensen’s phone as he walks towards the door.

                     “Mish! I’m serious!” Jensen growls without a lick of threat in his voice.

                     “I don’t see what the big deal is … I won’t find anything interesting on here, will I?” Misha peeks back over his shoulder and watches as Jensen’s cheeks pink.

                     “Oh … _I will?_ Interesting … has Dani been sending you pictures or something?” he gives the man a wink but it doesn’t seem to faze him any. “Or … have _you_ been sending _her_ pictures?” Misha gasps, covering his mouth with his hand to play up his surprise. “I would have never taken _you_ to be a sexter, Mr. Ackles!”

                     “Do not go through my messages!” Jensen yelps, throwing out his arm—seeming seriously panicked now.

                     “Ha! Now I know where to look!” Misha whips back around, thumbing frantically at the small screen. He jolts forward with an _umph_ as soon as Jensen smashes into his back—hands reaching around either side of Misha’s body and grasping wildly for the phone.

                     “ _Give it!”_

                     “Nope!” Misha laughs harder, jumping forward again but Jensen is right there with him.

                     “ _Misha!_ Seriously!”

                     “ _Jensen_ … I’m _seriously_ going to find those pics now.”

                     “ _Give me_ —“ Jensen squeezes Misha in his arms and attempts to wrestle him to the ground, “ _back my_ —” but Misha manages to stay upright despite the attack, “ _phone!_ ” The two stumble forward once more, finally smashing Misha’s face into the wall.

                     “ _Ow!”_ Misha groans around another laugh, rocking against the wall but still keeping the phone from Jensen’s hands.

                     “Sorry, but, _dude_ … give it back!” Jensen surges again, pressing harder into his friend as he feels blindly around the man’s body for where he’s keeping what he seeks. He feels up Misha’s chest, and over his shoulders, finally maneuvering back down the length of his wriggling arms. If Jensen seems like he’s taking his time— _well_ , he’s just being _thorough_.

                     “Why don’t you _make_ me?” Misha’s voice drops a little on the fourth word, making Jensen’s movements slow—the air around them slows as well. Limbs curl and tighten around one another—heads loll, necks stretch.

                     “I could …” Jensen whispers, lips dangerously close to Misha’s ear. “I could _make you_ give it back.”

                     Misha lets his head fall onto Jensen’s shoulder as his shoves his body into the warmth behind him. “I would like to see you _try_.” A kiss trails its way up Misha’s throat, vibrated by the moan now rumbling through Jensen’s. “I’d really, _really_ like to see you try.”

                     The phone is forgotten the moment Misha is whipped around—spine grinding into the wall as Jensen crowds into him. “I certainly have a few things I could _show_ you …” Jensen purrs, biting lightly at Misha’s lip.

                     “Oh yeah? Just not willing to _show_ _me_ what’s on your _phone_ , huh?”

                     Jensen’s smile is so close to Misha’s mouth, _it’s infectious_. “No … not yet, at least. But maybe if you’re _really_ nice to me.”

                     Jared clears his throat— _loud_ and _gritty_. “You two asshats _do_ realize I’m still in the room, right?”

                     Jensen jumps away—skin fire red and rubbing the back of his neck. “S—sorry, dude. _Um_ … just, got a little carried away for a second there.”

                     Misha snickers, shrugging at their shaggy headed friend. “ _I_ knew you were still here.”

                     Jared rolls his eyes at them both, grabbing his beer as he stands up from the armchair he’s been occupying for the better part of an hour. “ _Whatever_ —I’m leaving. Have fun doing _horribly_ inappropriate things to one another.”

                     “We certainly will!” Misha calls out, smiling bigger as he watches Jensen avoid Jared’s eyes.

                     “ _Ugh_ — you’re gross.” But Jared can’t help but smile as he moves past Misha and reaches for the door, shaking his head as he nudges the man with his shoulder. “Just don’t be loud. I’m in the next room and I need my beauty sleep.”

                     “Sorry to say, but no amount of sleep is going to help all—” Misha gestures up towards Jared’s face. “All _this_.”

                     Jared bats Misha’s hand away before flinging back his hair. “ _Shut up._ You’re just upset that _I_ won’t sleep with you.”

                     Misha waggles his eyebrows. “It’s not too late …”

                     Another laugh and another light shove and Jared is gone, walking back to his own room and leaving Misha and an _even redder_ Jensen alone.

                     “I seriously forgot he was here” Jensen finally groans, walking back to the small loveseat on the far side of the hotel room and plopping down upon it. “For a huge guy, he can be so _quiet_ sometimes.”

                     Misha sets down Jensen’s phone on the desk near the door and saunters over, already unbuttoning his shirt—grinning the moment he knows he’s caught Jensen’s attention. “We should put a bell on him.”

                     “Yeah—“ Jensen huffs, licking his lips at Misha comes to a stop between his knees. His breath catches once the man undoes the last button and shrugs out of his shirt. “Then he won’t interrupt _this_ anymore.” He grabs Misha’s arms and pulls him down, causing the man to plop onto his knees, straddling Jensen’s lap as he relaxes into the couch.

                     “It _does_ put a bit of a damper on things, doesn’t it?” Misha hums, making quick work of stripping Jensen’s upper half as well. After another moment of mutual appreciation, they connect—Misha grinding slowly on top of Jensen, and _Jensen_ —letting his hands roam all over Misha’s tan, smooth skin.

                     “Fuck … you looked so good today” Jensen breathes between kisses, biting at Misha’s chin and moaning the second the man’s palm presses against the bulging lump in his jeans.

                     “You looked pretty damn good, yourself.” Misha sits straighter, letting Jensen hug him close and lick lines across his collarbone.

                     One of Jensen’s hands soon gets adventurous, sliding down Misha’s back and underneath the hem of his pants, feeling and gripping as much of the man’s ass as he can.

                     Misha growls again—fingers filing through Jensen’s hair as the guy sucks on the dark nubs of his nipples. “Fuck, _Jen_ …”

                     Jensen smiles as he works his mouth even more, moving down as far he can bend—finally letting his hand tap in and reach for Misha’s straining zipper.

                     Misha moans once Jensen pulls him out, writhing on top of him—victim to his friend’s skilled fingers.

                     “Feel good, Mish?” Jensen asks, giving the man a few more bites, knowing and loving just how it’ll make him jump.

                     Misha’s fingers dig into freckled shoulders, holding on for dear life as Jensen strokes him.

                     “Are you gonna come for me? Just like this?” Jensen urges, staring up at the beautiful sight before him.

                     “ _Fuck!_ ”

                     “ _Come on_ , Mish … come like this— _god, damnit_ … you look so good. _So_ _fucking_ _good_.” Jensen speeds up his strokes, addicted to how he is making Misha _whirr_ and _hiss_ —how he’s making his friend’s jaw clench and his eyes burst wide.

                     “ _Shit_ … I’m, I’m gonna …” Misha grits out, looking down and locking eyes with Jensen; finally losing it when he sees the man’s mouth open—pink lips still wet—pink tongue pressing eagerly against the back of his teeth. He comes hard, lurching forward and bursting all over Jensen’s chest—white, hiding freckles like snow over stones.

                     Jensen falls back against the couch cushions, laughing with a slight look of displeasure as he peers down at himself. His hand falls away from Misha’s spent cock—but Misha is still twitching even without his touch.

                     “Well … you going to clean this up?” Jensen chuckles after another minute, flicking up his shoulders as he watches Misha settle.

                     Misha takes a few more deep breaths before nodding, eyes still closed even as a twisted smile forms on his face.

                     When blue finally opens back up to green—Jensen tenses, _knowing_ the look he sees in Misha’s eyes.

                     Misha slides off of his lap and slithers down to the floor—still on his knees but now with his head between Jensen’s. Sly fingers work their way to the man’s jeans and unzip his fly—slowly freeing his _obvious_ excitement from the tight confines of his boxers.

                     “This is great and all, _but_ … still not helping with the mess” Jensen laughs, gasping in between as Misha’s fingers wrap around him.

                     Misha doesn’t say a word before rushing forward, licking up some of the white still pooled on Jensen’s chest.

                     “Oh _Jesus Christ_ , dude!” Jensen coughs, laughing harder, but gagging all the same. “You’re a sick, kinky mother fucker!”

                     “But you _love_ it!” Misha moans, quickly wiping his lips with his thumb before dropping back down and sucking in Jensen’s cock.

                     All disturbed thoughts fall away as Misha bobs up and down, reducing Jensen to nothing more than a wavering mess of flushed skin and drying come.

                     Misha hums around Jensen’s head, licking at the tip—savoring the salty drops that he squeezes out. He lets his fingers drag down Jensen’s thigh, losing himself in how the man’s muscles feel through the denim. Jensen feels so open and torn like this, and Misha can’t help but be insanely turned on— _he sucks harder_ , groaning when Jensen bucks into his throat.

                     “ _Fuck_ , Mish!”

                     Misha pops off, grinning at the wrecked man in his hands. “You look amazing right now.”

                     Jensen laughs and shakes his head, flinging one arm over his face. “I look half crazed and _gross_ —especially when I’m all … _sticky_.” He gestures towards his chest and Misha’s _special_ watermark.

                     Misha chuckles— _low_ and _deep_. “ _That’s what I mean_.”

                     “You _are_ a kinky bastard, aren’t you?” Jensen says again, peeking out from under his wrist.

                     Blue eyes thin with scrunched cheeks—lips still slick and pink from sucking. Misha laughs. “Like I said before … _you love it.”_

                     Misha drops back down, swallowing Jensen up in _one_ , big gulp, making the freckled man moan so loud that neither of them are able to hear Jared pounding furiously on the joining wall.

**Author's Note:**

> For more smut, fluff and angst-- look through the rest of my AO3.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at [Castiel-Left-His-Mark-On-Me](http://castiel-left-his-mark-on-me.tumblr.com)


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